


ATTHS: After the Bomb

by BigBlue82



Series: ATTHS: Fight the Future [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hotel Sex, Movie: The X-Files: Fight the Future (1998), Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24235447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBlue82/pseuds/BigBlue82
Summary: A reimagining of missed opportunities for Mulder and Scully to get it on in Fight the Future.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: ATTHS: Fight the Future [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747873
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	ATTHS: After the Bomb

Mulder lay stretched out on top of the bed, one arm slung over his eyes while he flipped aimlessly through channels on the muted television. Scully paced back and forth in the narrow space between the twin beds and the dresser. The ratty motel was the latest in a long line of ratty roadside lodgings they’d been in together over the years, and with the events of the day unfolding as they were, he wondered if it might be the last.

“No, sir.” Scully pinched the bridge of her nose and held the cell phone away from her ear. “No, sir.”

Mulder could hear Skinner’s voice on the other end of the line all the way over here, and he was thankful and maybe a little sorry, but not really, that Scully was taking the brunt of the verbal ass-whooping for the both of them.

“I understand, sir.” Scully glanced over, tossing him a long-suffering look of trepidation. “Of course. I’ll make sure he’s there. Thank you, sir.”

Mulder clicked off the television, but otherwise remained motionless. His partner ended the call and tossed her cell phone on the bed. She rubbed her face in her hands, then dropped them to rest on her hips, and heaved a sigh.

“Meeting with OPR, tomorrow.”

Mulder sat up, acid burning in the back of his throat. Moving was a mistake. He still felt the ache of the massive shockwave that had knocked the police car nearly upside down with them inside.

“This whole thing stinks, Scully,” he insisted. He still felt like there was a little tuft of cotton in his ears and he wondered if he’d ever regain full hearing, despite Doctor Scully’s assurances.

“Yeah. It does. It all stinks real bad.” She snapped. “There’s a flight out of Love Field in three hours. Skinner says if we’re not on it, we may as well file for protective custody and disappear.”

“I say we go for it.” Mulder shrugged. “Make a run for the border right now. How are you at weaving straw hats for tourists?”

Her eyes welled up as she stared at him. “A man lost his life today.” 

“But I’m still here,” he said gently. “Thanks to you.”

She waved off the sudden well of emotion. “I’m going to take a shower.”

After the water turned on, he gave a slow count of ten before he stripped down and went in after her.

“Mulder, I don’t want to talk about it!” she insisted.

“I don’t either.” He shoved back the flimsy shower curtain and stepped in, pulling her slick, wet body against his. He leaned over, planting a hungry kiss on her mouth, like he really was a dead man and she was the fountain of life.

She hesitated for an instant, then she stood on her toes, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. God, he loved the way her body felt in his arms. She was petite, but so fucking strong. And even though she was smaller, he always felt like she was the one protecting him instead of the other way around. 

Everything about her was fierce, and burned like fire. From her hair all the way down to the way she fucked him. No one else he’d been with had ever kissed him with such passion. Like he was truly wanted, desired, like the world would end the second their lips parted.

“Scully.” His voice was raw, and he shuddered. “Scully, I—”

She blinked her eyes open, and he was met with the cloudy grayish-blue gaze that meant she was worried about him. About so many things. And it was his fault.

“Mulder, it’s not your fault.” She dragged him down by his ears and kissed his forehead, like she was sucking the thoughts right out of his brain. “You saved hundreds of people’s lives today. It could have all been so much worse if you hadn’t. Those kids . . . .”

He swallowed the knot in his throat. “What the hell is going on, Scully?”

“What do you mean?” She released him and they stood there in the steam together and he wished the rest of the world didn’t exist right now.

“Why call in a bomb threat for the wrong building?” He swiped the water off of his face. “None of this makes any damned sense! There’s something bigger at play here. I  _ know _ it.”

“Even if there is, what can we do about it right now? Right this very minute?” Pragmatic as always. She squared her shoulders and stared up at him with those steely eyes and he loved her.

“Nothing.” He licked a drop of water off his lower lip. Frustration deflated his shoulders. “We can’t do a Goddamned thing about it right now.”

Scully reached behind her and shut the water off. Then she yanked two threadbare towels off the rack and handed one to him. They dried off in silence and Mulder placed his hand in that spot on her lower back that felt like it had been made for him. After six years as partners, they moved together as one. No words needed. Now that he thought about it, there had never been that awkward period of getting to know one another. They’d always just been seamless together.

Instinct took over and words became pointless. He sat on the edge of the bed, opening his knees so she could step into his embrace. He kissed the last trace of water from her pert nipples. The cool manufactured air blowing out of the overworked unit by the window drew up goosebumps across her pale, flawless skin. Her face was a little pink from the searing Dallas sun, and a sprinkling of freckles had emerged across her nose.

Mulder tilted his head back, accepting her tongue in his mouth, grateful for the comfort of her body against his chest. He leaned back on the bed, bringing her down with him, and she tucked her knees up on either side of his waist. He shut his eyes, waiting to feel her come down on him. It was his favorite moment, that hot second of anticipation when nothing else in the world existed but that sliver of space between their bodies.

Her heat enveloped him, and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t anything anymore. Then her mouth was on his again, and she was moving, riding him, and everything was completely perfect and good.

It was easy and sensual at first, a slow roll of the hips, his meeting hers to hit just the right place inside her body. Gentle moans mixed with breathless gasps. Her breasts in the palms of his hand like some offering from the fucking gods of old. After a while they funneled the fears and frustrations of the day into their actions, building a desperate fervor that drove her spine straight and her head back on her shoulders.

Mulder bit down hard on his lip to keep from shouting it all out. There were other agents in the same hotel, after all. And Jesus help him if they fucked anything up enough to get split apart. He couldn’t imagine another partner. Ever. For anything.

Scully moaned a raw and desperate sound from behind lips clamped so tight they disappeared entirely. Fingernails dug harshly into his chest, and he burned for release. She tensed above him, body clenching around his cock, then crashing into endless waves that coaxed out his own searing release.

She fell forward, blanketing his chest with her body, and he wrapped his arms around her. Slowly, the world emerged around them, one bit at a time. He didn’t want to move, not ever again. He didn’t want to face whatever shit-storm was waiting for them back in D.C. Even if it meant staying in this lousy motel room in Dallas, Texas for the rest of eternity. 

Shit, maybe he had died today. Maybe they were both dead and this was Purgatory. He’d take the trade off, gladly. What did cheap, scratchy sheets matter, as long as he got to fuck Scully on them forever?

“We should pack,” she murmured. Her chest rose and fell softly beneath his hand.

“You really have so little faith in your hat weaving skills?” He kept his eyes closed, smoothing his hand up and down the delicate pearls of her spine.

“Mulder. . . .”

“I know.” He finally opened his eyes, then leaned down for one last kiss on the top of her head. “Wishful thinking.”

She lifted her head and rested her chin on the back of her hand. “Sailboat tours would be way more lucrative than straw hats.”

“Yeah, well.” He eased up, keeping his arms around her, leaning her slightly back off the edge of the bed, and prepared for the sharp jab he knew was headed for his ribs. “We both know what happened last time you tried to sail a boat.”


End file.
